


The Letter

by unspeakable3



Series: welcome to the most noble and ancient house of black [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Black Family-centric (Harry Potter), Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Gen, POV Regulus Black, Regulus Black Feels, Regulus Black-centric, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 07:52:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19268923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unspeakable3/pseuds/unspeakable3





	The Letter

**September 2nd, 1971.**

 

The owl came at breakfast.

Orion lowered his newspaper and Regulus made sure he was sitting up straight in case his father happened to look over. He made sure not to swing his legs, too, even though his feet didn’t yet touch the floor because mother didn’t like that. And he made sure to bite his toast ever so delicately so he wouldn’t spill crumbs everywhere and set them both to shouting at Kreacher.

But all that didn’t matter, because the owl came.

His father read the letter first. Regulus watched him out of the corner of his eye. Orion’s face remained as unreadable as ever as he eventually passed the thick parchment to his wife.

Walburga’s face wasn’t unreadable. Walburga’s eyes were _bulging_.

She screamed and screeched and ranted and raved and he couldn’t understand her because she was just so loud but Regulus shrunk back in his high-backed chair, hoping that if he looked small and helpless enough she wouldn’t decide to turn and direct her anger on him instead.

“Walburga,” his father said in that commanding, imperious tone that meant _stop that right now or Salazar help you_. And his mother stood, eyes blazing. Regulus caught a glimpse of the letter before Walburga swept her hand across the table, sending the letter and its envelope and the remains of their breakfast onto the floor. The words _Sirius_ and _Gryffindor_ leapt out at him, looking so incongruous next to each other.

 _Oh brother mine_ , he thought despondently, _what have you done?_

Kreacher placed a fresh goblet of pumpkin juice at Regulus’s right hand, and his father commanded him to drink. He obeyed, even though the sweet liquid turned sour in his mouth. How could he even begin to fix this?


End file.
